


Fire

by monyaka



Series: Femslash February 2020 [16]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Cats, F/F, Femslash February 2020, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22773286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monyaka/pseuds/monyaka
Summary: Day 17 of 29 : FireKyoko is fire, and Homura is ice.
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Sakura Kyouko
Series: Femslash February 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619584
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea what tags to use beyond just. "cats". there is a cat in here, he is the light of my life. i love him

A black cat pads by, his tail swishing. Homura watches him impassively. He’s nothing more than a street cat, but he has taken to following her anyway. She feels, in some way, he adds to the aura of mystery and intrigue she keeps hanging around her, so she does nothing to scare him away. But she has to admit, even if he did, she likely wouldn’t have the heart to force him to leave.

This is the first companionship she’s had in a while.

Idly, she rubs behind his ears, and he purrs contentedly, his skin sticking to his ribs as he wheezes out his appreciation. She takes out the tuna she’s bought today and pries open the lid, sets it down for him to attack. His pupils dilate and he munches eagerly once he gives it a few assessing sniffs.

Smart cat, she thinks, and puts away the can opener.

“Hey.”

The other street cat, Homura muses without any real bite to it. She raises impassive violet eyes to the other magical girl, who’s parading round the city in her magical girl outfit. It doesn’t matter if she’s seen; most people walking around at this hour would assume they were seeing things. A young girl in red skirting across the sky like a trail of fire.

Kyoko doesn’t put her hands on her hips or ask if Homura’s going to greet her. She knows better.

Smart cat.

“Here,” Homura offers, and takes out a ripe orange from her bag. “It’s sweet.”

Kyoko’s eyes roam over the orange, seeming conflicted in some way. She might be wondering if it’s poisoned, but eventually, she looks to the other and sighs, takes it. She understands Homura better than anyone. That Homura isn’t the sort of mysterious girl who likes to kill her opponents. That Homura cares enough to buy her food. That it’s, in some way, a peace offering. In the darkness of the city, where there are nothing but familiars to be found, Homura is feeling tragically sentimental.

She takes the orange and starts to peel, sitting on the church steps alongside Homura. “Here, take half.”

Homura has to think how it’s Kyoko who’s seen as selfish, when it is she who takes the title. Rewinding time again and again to preserve the wish of a Madoka who doesn’t exist anymore. Just to give herself a sense of purpose. If she simply stopped, could she find happiness? If she switched her sights, would history repeat with a different target?

Sitting so close to Kyoko, Homura feels she’s thawing.

The cat stands and rubs against Homura’s ankles. He meows and fixes his stare on Kyoko, too. Assessing her. Wondering if she is a threat, if she will take his beloved master away. Eventually, he elects to stay close to Homura.

Kyoko’s watching, and Homura catches the slight twitch of her lip. The sting of rejection.

She inches closer, and their hips touch.

The priestess looks over, not making any exaggerated noises. Just watching. That’s good—sudden movements or loud sounds would disrupt the stillness of the night, disgruntle them both. Their friendship hangs in this delicate stillness. Only here can Homura wordlessly take Kyoko’s hand, lay her head on her shoulder, place her burdens on the other without saying a thing about them.

Kyoko sits there, too. Silent. Homura wonders if she can feel it too—the impending dread of a world doomed to end. If she realizes on some subconscious level that it’s all about to fall apart.

Bits of orange disappear past the inferno. The sound of her chewing is calming.

And even if it’s only for a moment, Homura feels warm.


End file.
